


Press Your Words Into My Skin

by The_Disaster_Tiefling



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: (sort of), Angst, Childhood Trauma, Devotion, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fear, Friendship/Love, Insecurity, Kissing, Love, M/M, Magic, Memories, Naked Cuddling, Praise Kink, Secrets, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 11:53:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14331912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Disaster_Tiefling/pseuds/The_Disaster_Tiefling
Summary: “Caleb,” he murmurs coming back to himself and meeting the longing gaze, leaning in just as he had back then and kissing him. That had been their first kiss, the only answer his mind had been able to conjure in response to that broken, whispered question.Caleb longs for praise, but fears it in equal measure. Molly watches and learns, finding his way through the wizard's defences, until he can press the words that Caleb wants to hear against his skin.





	Press Your Words Into My Skin

   Molly lives for nights like these, when they have enough money to splurge on a tavern and more than one room. For nights, like tonight when Nott takes a fleeting look at him and Caleb, her gaze lingering a little longer on him, a warning written across her face before she turns away and asks Jester if they can have a sleepover. He’s still not sure if his fellow Tiefling has worked out the reason for those requests, because there are times when she seems to know far too much, and others when she seems to exist in her own little world. It doesn’t really matter because she always says yes, including Beau in the agreement before the monk can say anything and she does know…because there’s a smirk playing on her lips as she glances across at Caleb, before winking at him and joining in with Jester and Nott’s excited babbling about pillow fights. Fjord knows, but he’s more tactful than the rest of them and he merely mutters a ‘see you in the morning’ before heading for the stairs, even though technically they’re still ‘room mates’.

   None of them are particularly subtle, and he can feel Caleb shifting behind him and he moves, shielding the wizard from sight, whilst his tail stretches behind him until it can curl around an ankle, applying just the gentlest of pressure. _I’m here. You’re safe._ The movement doesn’t go unnoticed and Beau, whom he owes several rounds of drinks by now, immediately and loudly ushers Jester and Nott towards the stairs, distracting them by taunting them over their inability to beat her pillow fights. They disappear in a flurry of noise and excitement that draws attention away from Caleb, and he adds a couple more drinks to the tally as he hears Caleb making a soft, relieved noise from behind him.

“Come on,” Molly murmurs, finally turning to Caleb now that they’re alone, holding out his hand and waiting patiently. It’s a sign of how far they’ve come that Caleb doesn’t hesitate as he reaches out to take the offered hands, although there’s still the faintest of quivers as his fingers curl around Molly’s and for a moment he mourns the fact that even now Caleb is wary. Maybe he’ll always be, it’s a painful thought but Molly won’t hide from it, because they’ve already come so far, and he has no intention of walking away, even if it does leave a dull ache in his chest.

    Upstairs they can hear muffled thumps and giggles from the girls’ room, and Molly wonders if they’ll even have any pillows left to sleep on as the door shudders as they pass it. Caleb jolts at the noise, but doesn’t pull away, letting Molly guide him to their room. Frumpkin greets them with a soft chirp, twining around Molly’s ankles before making a beeline for Caleb, and he lets the wizard fuss the cat as he takes care of his swords. They have their own rituals before bed, separate and yet together, because Caleb finishes petting Frumpkin and settles the cat on the pile of clothing he’s clearly been using for a bed going by the fur gathering on what Molly realises is one of his shirts, before moving to cast silver thread and they both finish at the same moment. Silence falls, and whilst it had once threatened to become awkward this is comfortable and expectant all at once, and Molly’s lips curl into a smile as he sees Caleb shifting from foot to foot.

“Come here.” There are some nights, more frequent now when Caleb is the one to initiate things, the one to come to him and reach for what he wants. Tonight, isn’t one of them and Molly hadn’t been expecting it to be after the last few days, especially after that last fight, and when he meets Caleb’s gaze he can see the light of the wildfire reflected in the haunted blue eyes. They’d been so good at making sure Caleb didn’t need to use his fire, none of them wanting to see that blank, haunted look more often than they needed, but they’d been caught off guard by the cold weather and the Ice Mephits that had ventured down from the mountains, and it had been his flames that had turned the tide. He hadn’t lost himself in memories this time, but it was clear that he was shaken, and Molly is deliberately gentle as he grasps both of Caleb’s as soon as he’s within reach.

Caleb is trembling.

    Not for the first time Molly wished that he knew exactly what had happened in the wizard’s past to make him like this, but so far all they’ve learnt is that it involved fire and death and that whether justified or not, that Caleb holds himself responsible. One day he will press for answers, or so he always tells himself, but he probably won’t because he knows better than anyone what it’s like to want to protect your past. However, tonight is not the night to seek those answers and he buries his frustration and curiosity beneath a soothing smile as he steps closer, lifting Caleb’s hands and studying them, noting that the bandages wrapped around them are scorched in places. He’s cautious as he lets go, holding Caleb’s gaze as he reaches for the bandages and starts to slowly unwind them, catching the hitch in his partner’s breathing, but there’s no protest or pulling away and it’s not long before the material is pooled at their feet.

    Caleb flexes his fingers, still trembling and Molly is quick to reclaim his hands, lifting them up and pressing a kiss to the back of each one, before turning his attention to the slender fingers. “I love your fingers.” If pressed he would admit that he loved every part of Caleb, even when the wizard was buried beneath the filth he used to protect himself most of time. However, for now his focus was on the trembling fingers, watching the quiver that works through them in response to his words and his expression softens as he leans in, pressing a tiny, chaste kiss to the tip of each finger. On another night, he might have teased, little nips or flicks of his tongue, just to see the delicious flush that would creep across Caleb’s face, but not tonight. Tonight, it’s just gentle, fleeting presses of his lips, with a longer, lingering kiss to each palm.

“Molly…” Caleb sounds half-wrecked already and there’s a faint tinge of pink in his cheeks already and Molly itches to tease, longing to see the smile that has become more frequent, the slightest twist of Caleb’s lips that brings a brightness to the blue eyes. Tonight, is not the time though, and he shushes him with a stolen kiss before gently beginning to nudge the wizard back towards the bed, hand moving to the lapels of the coat and beginning to tug it off. In the past the slightest tug on the coat had been enough to send Caleb spiralling into a panic, and it’s a testament to how far he’s come and how much he needs this, that he awkwardly helps Molly remove it, removing his scarf on his own as Molly sheds his own coat.

     The rest of their clothes follow suit, left in a messy pile beside the bed and Caleb is pliant as Molly pushes him down on the back, using his body to cover him like a blanket for a moment. It’s soothing for them both, feeling the others heartbeat, savouring the closeness and Molly could almost spend the night just like that, watching as some of the blush begins to crawl down Caleb’s chest. However, there’s still the faintest of tremors wracking Caleb, and its been days since they’ve been properly alone beyond snatched moments on the road and slowly he sits up, his tail moving to draw intricate patterns against Caleb’s ankle, earning a twitch from the wizard beneath him. There’s a slightly wicked edge to his smile as he repeats the movement, and this time the twitch is more noticeable, but it pales in comparison to the tiny smile and soft, breathless chuckle that escapes. As always, he basks in the sound, watching as more of the tension seeps from the wizard and his smile softens again, losing the edge of mischief as he murmurs. “That’s it, just relax.” He moves his tail away, giving Caleb that security and watching as Caleb takes a deep breath and melts beneath it. “That’s it, well done.”

    There had been a time when such simple praise would have had Caleb huddling in on himself, shoulders hunched up to try and shield himself from the words. He still quivers at the words, eyes wide, and there’s a hint of doubt in their depths.

****

    _For as long as he can remember, Molly has always watched the people around them, learning the way their bodies move and their words paint worlds. Joining with the ‘Mighty Nein’ had made him more watchful, they were strangers and strange with it and whilst he trusted his own ability to get out of trouble, he wasn’t sure that he trusted them. So, he watched, hiding his wariness beneath an easy smile and friendly manner, trying to learn their patterns and mould his own to theirs, without losing himself._

_He wasn’t sure when he had first noticed it, because a lot had happened to them in a short amount of time. Maybe it had been on the road to Zadash, listening to the others as they teased Caleb about his choice of ruse now that the danger had passed, and the wizard was back on his feet. There was laughter and mocking, but it was friendly, a distinction Molly had learned to pick up on a long time ago with the Carnival and beneath it all had been a quiet admiration. It might not have ended as Caleb had intended, but he had brought them valuable time to shake off sleepiness and take stock of the situation, and by drawing the bandits’ focus he had allowed the rest to act unhindered. Caleb was quiet, not really responding one way or another to the teasing and it was hard to gauge from his expression whether he realised that it wasn’t intended to be malicious._

_However, it was impossible to miss Caleb’s reaction when Nott who had been relatively quiet so far piped up, pointing out that Caleb had always been good at diverting attention like that. Gratitude and admiration clear in her voice as she regaled them with one of the escapades caused by her ‘itch’ and more than once Caleb had opened his mouth as though to stop her, still reluctant to share his past, but that was nothing compared to how he tensed when Nott had finished with a soft. “He saved me… he’s always saving me.” You would’ve thought the words had slammed into Caleb with physical force, as the wizard stiffened for a moment, shoulders hunching as though to shield himself as Jester went into raptures, hugging the little Goblin to her side and proclaiming loudly that she was glad that Caleb had protected her._

_Molly smiled at their antics, noted the considering look that Beau shot at Caleb, but his attention was riveted on the wizard. He didn’t speak, eyes carefully looking at anything but the rest of them and the tense line of his shoulders and hunkered posture remained for the rest of the journey._

**

_Molly might have dismissed the reaction, after all they hadn’t known each other that well at that point and maybe Caleb had just been uncomfortable because Nott was bringing up the past. He’d filed the reaction away but forgotten about it in the fiasco that followed in Zadash and having his own past raked over. However, he was always aware of the wizard, not least because Caleb had been the first to understand and accept his reluctance to discover his past and there had been a knowing look in the blue eyes that had intrigued him, although he hadn’t pushed._

_He hadn’t pushed, but he had watched._

_That was how he realised that it hadn’t been the talk of the past that had activated Caleb’s defences, but the praise. Now that he was properly paying attention he realised that Caleb would tense and freeze if any of them so much as said ‘thank you’, even for something as minor as passing something at the table. It worried him, not least because it was always accompanied by emotions flickering over Caleb’s face before they could be locked away, doubt…as though he thought the words were a lie…and fear, although what he feared Molly couldn’t be sure, he just knew that he didn’t like seeing that expression on Caleb. There was little he could do though, because he knew without a doubt that Caleb who avoided attention at all costs, would hate it if he pointed out his reaction or asked the others to temper their expressions of gratitude or praise._

_And he doesn’t want to._

_Because beneath those darker emotions is a longing that reminds him of himself. When he’d first joined the circus, he’d longed for and needed human contact to ground him, but he hadn’t known how to ask for it or how to accept it and more than once he had tried to push people away when really, he had wanted to yank them closer. He suspects that Caleb is the same, but whilst Molly had Yasha who had taken one look at his hissing, defensive form and ignored it completely, pulling him into a hug and refusing to let him deny himself, Caleb is alone. Even when he’s in the middle of their group, with Nott pressed tightly into his side and clinging to his hand, he’s alone and Molly knows that they’re two different people, and that whilst he had needed that abrupt push, Caleb would likely disappear completely if he tried the same tactic._

_He wasn’t willing to just ignore it though, and slowly he shifted his approach, wrapping praise and gratitude up in teasing words. It wasn’t enough to deceive Caleb, but he seemed to be better equipped to handle it, even if that often meant a sharp insult or jab in return. Progress is slow, because Caleb still tenses and huddles in on himself when the others praise him after a job where his magic has turned the tide in the favour, or his tongue has talked them out of trouble yet again, but it’s there and Molly hopes that maybe one day he will be able to drop the teasing, and give the wizard the praise he so clearly desires._

_Then it all goes wrong…_

_It had been a nightmare of a job. The information they’d been given had been so widely off, that they would’ve thought that the small village that had hired them had lied had it not been for the fact that Molly had been suspicious from the start and used his Devil’s tongue to make sure they got all the information they needed…and they had, it had just been wildly inaccurate, leaving the Mighty Nein cut off from escape and outnumbered by a warband of Orcs. Caleb had been the first to fall, throwing himself into the path of a blow meant for Nott and then next while had been a blur of terrified panic, clashing metal and frantic voices. Somewhere in the midst of it, whilst Molly had been lost in blood-mist, anger and fear and a frantic mantra of ‘he can’t be dead’ sending him further into his blood magic than he’s ever gone before, Jester had managed to revive Caleb._

_The first Molly had known of it was when the Orc bearing down on him had been engulfed with flames, its screams bringing the Tiefling back to himself, just as more balls of flame roar past to consume other Orcs. Turning his head, he finds Caleb, the wizard’s expression twisted with a complicated mix of fury and terror, as he lists worryingly to the side, his wounds clearly not fully healed. Molly wants to shout at him to stop, knowing that the fear isn’t because of the Orcs or how close they’d come to getting overwhelmed…or even how close Caleb had been to dying, something that sends a chill down Molly’s spine…but because of the flames that are dancing around his hands, lashing out as one foolish Orc tries to rush him. He can’t tell him to stop though, because as much as he hates it, Caleb is turning the battle in their favour and saving their skins. All he can do is rush forwards, moving his swords in a deadly dance as he joins the others in corralling the Orcs, trying to end the battle as soon as possible._

_It seems to take forever before the last one falls, silence falling over the group, shock and relief leaving them all trembling. Molly is the first to move, because Caleb’s expression has gone blank, his eyes seeing some distant point, whilst the flames creep up his arms. “Caleb, there’s time for that later.” It’s become their code, the words that Molly always uses to draw the wizard back and he’s startled when after a brief pause Caleb blinks, head listing towards him and haunted blue meeting his eyes, before the flames flicker out of existence. It’s never been that simple, and something warm and hopeful slides into his chest and he moves forward without thinking._

_“Good job!” Molly was tactile by nature, being able to reach out and touch, to commit things to memory through physical contact was something he needed after everything that he had endured. It’s something that he’s missed on the road with this mis-matched group, their growing closeness something he is more than happy to embrace, along with Jester’s habit of throwing herself at random people for hugs and the friendly claps on the shoulder that have become more common between himself, Beau and Fjord. He knows better, but the relief of surviving, of realising that Caleb is still with them…still with him…and the fact that his words had been enough to bring the wizard out of his thoughts, clouds his thoughts, and he reaches out and grips Caleb’s shoulder. “You saved us.”_

_Caleb is wonderfully solid, and alive under his fingers…_

_It takes him a moment too long to realise that Caleb has frozen, turning rigid beneath the friendly touch and staring at him wide eyes, hope and doubt warring for control. However, the quiver that follows shocks him back into focus and he lets hand fall away with a muttered curse, unable to miss the way that Caleb’s eyes trace the movement, that painful mix of fear and longing once more flashing over his face before he looks down, hiding himself from Molly in a way he hasn’t done for months and it hurts._

_“Caleb…”_

_“I’m f-fine…” The waver is more than enough to tell Molly that he’s far from okay, and he grimaces, itching to reach out and fix this, even as Caleb takes a half-step away. “I…” Blue meets crimson for a fleeting second, filled with so much want and fear that it takes Molly’s breath away and he can’t protest when Caleb retreats with a whispered. “I’m fine…”_

 ****

       That day feels like a lifetime ago as he blinks, dragging himself back to the present, eyes soft as he reaches out and brushes his fingers against one flushed cheek. The doubt is still there, just a spark buried deep in the blue and maybe it will never disappear, but more telling is the way that Caleb leans into his touch, the longing no longer masked but written clearly across his face.

       It had taken them a long time to get to this point, especially after Molly had overstepped that day, Caleb dancing around him nervously for weeks after. All Molly had been able to do was fall back on his teasing words, and considerate distance and wait and hope that he could bridge the gap between them once more. In the end it had been Yasha, who knew him better than anyone and who understood in her own way Caleb’s love for being alone who’d had enough, bodily herding them into a room at the tavern they were using a temporary base and setting herself as guard outside so that they couldn’t flee or be disturbed.

It was a good thing she had, although it hadn’t felt like it at the time.

*

_Molly’s protests had been half-hearted to say the least, because he wanted nothing more than a chance to talk to Caleb and try and mend the bridges between them, and he’d fallen silent when Yasha had given him an inscrutable look before closing the door behind herself. He had turned towards Caleb, half-expecting flames, but the wizard just looked exhausted as he sank down on the bed, carefully looking anywhere but at Molly. It hurt, because they had been making progress, Molly was sure of it…just as he was sure that he saw Caleb as something more than just a travelling companion or friend, the moment Caleb had fallen in that last battle having haunted his dreams too much for him to believe anything else. However, he remained where he was, quiet as he let Caleb have the time to gather his thoughts after their rather abrupt capture, letting him make the first move._

_He was starting to think that nothing was going to happen, the minutes ticking by in silence, when Caleb finally lifted his head just enough to peek up at Molly, his voice barely audible even in the deep quiet that lay between them. “I’m sorry.”_

_“Why are you apologising?” Molly blinked, caught off guard by the quiet apology and at any other time the confused expression that greeted his question would have been amusing. After all it was hard to find much that Caleb didn’t have at least some knowledge of, but he couldn’t find any victory in it today. “Caleb?”_

_“I’ve been making things…awkward.”_

_Ah. The apology suddenly made perfect sense, and he immediately wished that it hadn’t as he finally took a step forward, venturing into the distance that had sprung up between them and shaking his head. “Caleb, no…”_

_“I have, you were just…just trying to…”_

_“It doesn’t matter,” Molly is the one to cut him off this time, voice gentle but firm, because he needs to nip this in the bud. He was the one who overstepped, and even if Caleb has forgiven that, there’s no way he’s going to let him try and take the blame. “I was caught up in the moment, but I should have remembered that you’re not comfortable with that kind of thing…I’m the one who should be apologising.” It seems clear cut in his own mind, but the expression that greets his words is so painfully confused and so perfectly Caleb that his breath catches in his throat._

_He’d promised himself time and time again that he wasn’t going to pry, but there’s something about that expression that makes him move forward again, not close enough to pressure him, but enough that Caleb looks up at him. “You know, I’ve seen how you look when someone praises you, not just me.” Fear greets his words, and its almost enough to get him to back off. Almost, because behind it is that flicker of longing. A desire to be understood, and he takes another cautious step forward, still lingering just out of range. “You want it don’t you? To be understood, to be praised…?” Gods, he hopes that he’s not misinterpreted those expressions, because they’re on a knife edge here, one far sharper and far more dangerous than the scimitars in his own room._

_“Ja…” It’s little more than a breath of sound and he’s not sure that he was meant to hear it, or that Caleb had intended to say it aloud at all because they both freeze and at any other time Molly would have laughed at the image they must have presented. Still, it’s a response and it gives him courage to press onwards, careful to keep his voice as soft and calm as possible._

_“Then why…?” Why do you fear it? Why do you fear us…me?_

_Caleb looks as though he wants to be anywhere but here, and Molly watches the shudder that works its way through the wizard’s body and how he hunkers down into his coat as though it will shield him from the conversation. Normally, it would be enough to have him backing off, but unintentional or not Caleb had given him an answer and he’s hoping for something more, no matter how minor. “I…” Caleb faltered, gaze meeting Molly’s for a moment before darting away, and his shoulders are hunched now as he tries to make himself as small as possible. “I was p-praised before.” It’s hard to see Caleb’s face from this angle, but he catches the way the wizard’s lips twist and its enough to tell him that it hadn’t been a good thing._   _“Where I grew up, being born with magic was considered a blessing. I was an unknown, just another child in the village and then I made fire for the first time…”_   

_Molly has seen Caleb’s expression when he’s studying, when he’s practicing new magic and he knows that it’s one of the few things that the wizard truly loves. One of the few things that let some of the uncertainties that seemed to constantly plague him ease, if only for a few minutes. Yet there’s no missing the bitterness buried in those words and he sighs, having a good idea of what had happened. There had been more than one magic user in the Carnival, and many of them, especially the younger ones had been runaways, either forced to flee just to survive…or escaping from families, and people who were unable to see past the magic they could wield. They were always painfully cautious of using their magic around others, some burying it to the point where it had become dangerous and Molly swallows, because he realises that could have been Caleb._

_He’s not sure what to say, how to convince Caleb that he’s not the same, that his feelings would be the same if Caleb was magic-less. However, he’s not entirely sure that’s true. Sure, he doesn’t care if Caleb has magic or not, but its something that’s shaped him into the man that Molly has come to… care about. It’s brought their paths together. Without magic they might never have met, and he hates himself for suddenly being glad of that magic, that cursed path, because without it he might never have got to know Caleb._

_“After that, no one saw me as Caleb anymore,” Caleb’s voice drew him back to the present, and there was that bitterness again, only this time it was deeper and underlain with loneliness. Molly wants to ask old he was when he’d first used his magic, to know just how long Caleb has been adrift like this but his voice won’t work. “I was nothing but a source of magic in their eyes. They would praise me, pat me on the head and give me sweets, but it was empty…they were thanking the magic, not me. And then…” He cuts himself off with a choked noise and Molly knows they’ve got too close to whatever had happened to make those flames haunt Caleb, and he wants to know, but he won’t push because this is more than he’d ever expected Caleb to offer him._

_It hurts to look at Caleb and see him hunched protectively, to see how he looks every time one of them has said ‘thank you’ or ‘well done’ and imagine him doing that as a child. He also knows what Caleb hadn’t said. That the child had done everything he could to earn that praise, hoping that someone would see him rather than the magic, that someday he would be able to be more than his magic. Molly had done the same when he had first joined the Carnival, willing to do anything just to have a home, a place to exist, a place to make new memories. He’d been lucky, the others had seen him and welcomed him as he was, but Caleb had never had that…at least not until it was too late, until the wizard could no longer tell the difference or was too frightened to trust that people could be different, and he’s torn between fury at those who had turned their back on the younger Caleb and wanting to reach out and protect his Caleb…_

_The latter wins, and he cautiously closes the last little bit of distance between them, slowing when Caleb stiffens but not stopping until he can drop down to a crouch in front of the wizard, trying to make himself as unthreatening as possible. “Caleb,” he murmurs, reaching out and resting his hands-on Caleb’s knees, his grip loose enough that Caleb can escape if he feels the need, feeling them quiver violently before stilling. “I’m sorry.”_

_“Why…?”_

_“Because you’re hurt.” It’s not a physical wound, but its left a scar, one that might never heal, and Molly helps the helplessness that comes with that thought. “Because you’ve been alone…”_

_“That…” Caleb is confused, shaking his head, but at least he’s looking at Molly again, meeting his gaze. “You weren’t the one…” He trails off, eyes widening, almost as though he’s had an epiphany and his voice drops until the Tiefling has to lean forward to catch the words. “You weren’t the one…” It’s an opening and Molly takes it, the ache to help, to soothe overwhelming at this point especially as Caleb has still made no attempt to pull away._

_“And Caleb,” he pauses, waits until he’s certain that Caleb’s attention is riveted on him before offering him a smile, one untouched by his usual mischievousness. “I never will.” He says it with all the force he can summon, knows that he will need to say it repeatedly, and praying that Caleb will give him the chance to do so. “Your magic is a part of you, it’s important to you.” And he thanks whatever deities there are that Caleb had learnt to embrace his magic, rather than letting it consume him, fingers tightening for a minute before he forces it to relax a little. “But it isn’t all you are.” It’ll never be all you are…_

_“Then, what am I, Mollymauk Tealeaf?”_

*

“Caleb,” he murmurs coming back to himself and meeting the longing gaze, leaning in just as he had back then and kissing him. That had been their first kiss, the only answer his mind had been able to conjure in response to that broken, whispered question. It’s chaste, neither of them is in the mood for more, a tender reminder of how far they’ve come and that they’re here and together, but it doesn’t stop the brief flash of possessiveness as they slowly pull apart for air. “Mine.” It’s low, whispered against Caleb’s neck as he presses a trail of butterfly kisses, but he can feel Infernal tinging the word, pressing it into his partner’s skin. Just as he can feel the quiver that greats both the word and sensation, watching, mesmerised as always as the flush in Caleb’s cheeks darkens and begins to creep lower and lower. It was the same thing he had whispered that night when their relationship had finally begun to change, but back then it had been too much, Caleb coming apart at the seams in a way that Molly senses he had never allowed himself to do before.

    Tonight, Caleb’s breath has hitched, and he’s crimson now, but he reaches for Molly, pulling him closer and whilst he’s quivering again, his grip is strong. “Please…” There’s no way that Molly can say no to that, not when its taken them months since that night to reach this point. After that conversation Molly had largely dropped the teasing note from his words, at least when they were around the others, taking every opportunity to praise the wizard, not avoiding the topic of Caleb’s magic but choosing his words with care. Because Caleb was a magnificent sight when he used his magic, and he had saved their skins more time than they could count at this point.

    It had been a slow process, even as they had grown closer, their relationship blossoming and growing along with Caleb’s trust. The simplest word of praise or expression of gratitude could still make Caleb come undone if it came unexpectedly, something that Molly was more than happy to use to his advantage when they were alone, but was cautious of using around the others, because whilst Caleb was slowly learning to trust them too, he still greeted their praise with wariness. However, with time Caleb had learned to absorb their words with his head held high and only the faintest of quivers in his hands, something that was easily hidden either in the folds of his coat or by twinning his fingers with Molly’s.

    With Molly he had learned to embrace the words that the Tiefling would whisper into his skin at night, no longer hiding his longing for those gentle words, for the words that had nothing to do with the flames that danced beneath his skin. They still held power, Molly having learnt through trial and error to know where Caleb’s boundaries were in a given situation, knowing just what to say to push him over, or when to curtail his praise so that the wizard hovered on the precipice. He knew what words would send that delicious flush creeping lower, and what would have Caleb curling against him, trembling and shivering and clinging to him as though he was his anchor.

    It’s how he knows that Caleb wasn’t pleading with him to stop with that quiet whispered ‘please’, his lips trailing lower, following the path of the spreading flush and worshipping every inch of skin, warm with the knowledge that they’ve got to this point. That Caleb has come to trust him this much, and he pauses, lifting his head to meet Caleb’s gaze for a moment, hoping that it’s enough to convey the emotions currently flooding him and from the way his partner quivers under his gaze, eyes suspiciously bright he gets the feeling that the message was received. The stuttered ‘M-Molly’ that follows confirming it, and he can’t help but lean up, stealing another kiss before his lips move lower again.

    There’s a constellation of freckles on Caleb’s shoulder, trapped between two scars but unblemished by either and he presses his lips first to the scars, tracing the marred flesh, memorising it all over again. One he knows came from their misadventures in Zadash, the other is older, another tie to the part of Caleb’s past that he still doesn’t know, and he lingers, feeling Caleb quivering at the attention before slowly moving onto the patch of perfect skin. Lips tracing the pattern of freckles as he has dozens of times before, and he can feel Caleb relaxing beneath him, melting beneath the gentle ministrations and as his eyes flick up, just in time to see the smile. The warm, astounded smile that makes the blue sparkle and he can’t stop himself.

“Beautiful…” His voice is soft, almost reverent, the word meant for Caleb’s ears alone. He feels the tremor that follows the word and for a moment he fears that he’s gone to far, and he jolts when trembling fingers brush against his cheek, tilting his head up until their gazes meet. Caleb is bright red, eyes moist, but the smile is still there, illuminating his face in a way that takes Molly’s breath away. “Caleb?” Molly’s voice wavers, because this is new, and he feels like they’re on the precipice of something.

“Can…” Caleb swallows and for a moment he seems about to hunch on himself, but his gaze doesn’t waver, and whatever he finds in Molly’s expression seems to give him confidence. “Can you say that again….?”

“Caleb.” Molly closes his eyes for a moment, trying to calm his racing heart and contain the wild emotions bubbling up in his chest, because it’s the first time that Caleb’s asked. It’s the first time Caleb has allowed himself to ask for something he wants, to give into the longing that’s always been written across his face, and he’s given that moment to Molly. Taking a deep breath, not wanting to make Caleb wait for fear that he will ruin the moment and praying that his voice won’t break, as he opens his eyes, smiling up at his partner.  “Caleb,” he leans up, capturing Caleb’s lips, reaching out blindly to twine their fingers as he feels the nervous hitch of Caleb’s breath, squeezing as he murmurs into the kiss.  “I will you tell that as many times as you like, because you, Caleb Widogast are beautiful…”


End file.
